Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Well, you don’t need to stay. You obviously have a job and a life back in Chicago.”
His eyes narrowed. “And you don’t have a life?”
“I decided to put it on hold. My career is a bit more flexible. I work freelance and only take jobs when I want to.”
As a contract makeup artist, I often worked on television and movie sets back in California. It was on one such set that I’d met Brad, who’d been a writer on a popular sitcom at the time.
“Well, I primarily work remotely anyway,” Josh said. “So it’s not a problem for me to be here.” He glared at me. “It’s what Brad would’ve wanted.”
Moving my shoulders back, I challenged him. “How do you know what Brad would’ve wanted? Did you discuss this scenario with him? Because last I checked, no one expected Wayne to drop dead at sixty years old.”
“We never specifically discussed it, but I mean, come on. You’d only known Brad like what…two years? And maybe met Scottie a few times? Scottie grew up with me around. I’m practically his brother.”
“This is not a competition, but since you seem to be making it into one, don’t you think if Brad was going to marry me, he would have also entrusted me with his brother?”
Josh glared. “Actually, no. He probably knew he could depend on me and didn’t need to specify anything were something to happen. He knew I’d step in.”
I lifted my hands into the air. “Well, I’ve just uprooted my entire life to move here. Drove all the way across the country. I’m not going anywhere.”
Josh glanced at my fingernails. “How exactly do you plan to wipe Scottie’s ass with those claws, by the way?”
I looked down at my lavender-colored stiletto nails. In all honesty, I’d never once thought about having to assist Scottie in the bathroom. I suppose it should’ve dawned on me. But I’d yet to learn everything about what this responsibility entailed. Lorraine had neglected to mention that Scottie wasn’t able to fully take care of himself in that area.
Despite inwardly freaking out, I continued to hold my head high. “I’ll figure it out.” Fake it till you make it.
“You likely weren’t thinking about that when you asked them to glue those little rhinestones on your nails,” he chided. Before I could respond, Josh looked around. “Where is Scottie anyway?”
I pointed behind me. “He’s eating dinner at the kitchen table.”
He looked beyond my shoulders and raised a brow. “You sure about that?”
I turned to find that Scottie had vacated his spot. Of course! I was supposed to be keeping a damn eye on him, wasn’t I? I hadn’t accounted for the unwelcome distraction of Josh Mathers, dickhead extraordinaire.
I ran over to the table.
Half of Scottie’s chicken was uneaten, and all of his dessert was gone. But the worst part was that he’d tried to pour himself some cranberry juice—because I’d apparently forgotten to serve it. Now there was juice all over the floor, and the refrigerator door was wide open. First major lesson learned: you can’t take your eyes off Scottie for even a few minutes.
“Shit,” I muttered.
“You know what? You’re right.” Josh grinned smugly. “Looks like you have everything under control.”
I rolled my eyes. This man had been here a matter of minutes, and he’d managed to get so far under my skin, it felt like it was crawling.
There was a humming sound coming from Wayne’s bedroom, which was just off the kitchen. Josh followed me in there, and we found Scottie lying calmly on the bed, watching something on his iPad as if he hadn’t just destroyed the kitchen.
“Come on, Scottie,” I said, reaching out. “You need to wash your hands. I’m sure they’re greasy.”
He didn’t budge.
Josh moved past me and crawled onto the bed. “Let’s go, dude,” he said sternly. “Time to wash your hands.”
When Scottie got a look at Josh, he started to laugh and bounced on the mattress. He was beaming, actually. I couldn’t help but smile, even if this meant Josh clearly had one advantage over me: Scottie immediately took to him.
Josh’s face lit up. “You missed me, huh?”
Scottie wrapped his arm around Josh’s neck, putting him in a chokehold before sniffing the man’s lustrous hair.
“Okay, buddy,” Josh said. “You got a good sniff of me. That’s enough.”
“Does he always sniff you like that?”
“He likes my hair. Always has.”
I had to admit, it was a nice head of hair—for an asshole. Shiny, thick, and chestnut brown. It was a bit longer than I remembered from the last time I’d seen Josh—at Brad’s burial.
Scottie suddenly grabbed Josh by the balls.
My jaw dropped. Good. I could kiss you right now for that, Scottie.
“Nope. I need those,” Josh coughed out. “Let ’em go.”
Covering my mouth, I laughed into my hand. This was definitely the highlight of a long day.